I'm Here, Can You See Me?
by Potikanda
Summary: Dwight is so very lost without his brother, Alan. It's his birthday, and he misses him terribly. What can the Windsor Boys do to help Dwight realise he's not alone? Based on CP Coulters' Dalton fic.


**It's Dwight's birthday, and he misses his brother. What can the Windsor Conspirators do to make Dwight feel loved? Sweet and fluffy, and I must admit, I cried while writing this. I could totally see this happening.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Dalton.**

* * *

><p>His 18th birthday. This was it. It had been five years now. All he could do was wait.<p>

Thomas Dwight Houston, Dwight to anyone who didn't want a squirt of holy water in their face, was now officially 18. And he loathed it.

He loathed every moment spent without his amazing younger brother, Alan.

Every day was grey. The colour of the world had bled out when Alan had been kidnapped. And killed.

His brother had been his best friend. His confidante. The one he had turned to when his parents were fighting. They'd always had each others' backs.

Until the day when Dwight wasn't there.

The day when some sick mother fucker had stolen his incredible brother away.

And killed him. Murdered him. Left him lying in a field like a piece of god damn _garbage_.

And Dwight had felt as though he couldn't do anything. Until Alan had come to him and told him to try dowsing. And that Alan would point the crystal to the exact location of his body.

Dwight had been ready to try anything.

So he'd tried dowsing.

For two full days he had been focussing on the pendulum. Every time it started to feel as though he had been getting somewhere, it had abruptly retreated.

Then he fell into a half-sleep.

It was there that Alan found him, moving his hand softly overtop of the correct area, and Dwight had felt the sharp tug of the pendulum in his hand.

Jerking awake, he had managed to verify the spot multiple times, and then had told his parents where to look.

After that he had stopped speaking.

Shaking himself back to the present, Dwight opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. He noticed Todd was already gone for the day, and thanked God that he was alone.

Only when he sat up did he realise that his eyes were wet.

He'd been dreaming of Alan, yet again.

Yanking off the covers, he leapt from his bed to the salt circle set up in his room, and sauntered over to the bathroom. He checked on the multiple symbols that decorated his room as he went, making sure the crosses were right side up, the salt lines weren't smudged, and the holy water sprayer rested exactly where he had left it last night before bed.

Everything was as it should be, and Dwight took the opportunity to relax a little.

Clearly, the Tweedles hadn't made it to his room yet, and he counted himself blessed that he had awoken before they had attacked him.

He was relatively positive that an evil spirit possessed them, but only on his birthday. It's like someone was trying to send him a message.

Dwights' eyes widened as he looked in the mirror.

_Alan?_

No. It couldn't be.

If Alan had wanted to get a hold of Dwight, why would he have not made his presence known sooner? No. It was simply impossible.

But maybe…

* * *

><p>Dwight dressed, pulling on his formal white shirt, tie, grey pants and blazer. To this he added a lightweight overcoat. It was long, with a buckle in the back. It reached nearly to the ground, and was a rusty brown colour.<p>

Looking around his room, he checked one more time to make sure everything was in place, then grabbed his holy water and walked out the door.

He sauntered down the hallway, his hands in his pockets, fondling the weapons he was allowed to carry in the school.

A silver cross, excellent for rampant werewolves.

Garlic powder, for the vampires he swore lived in the bell tower.

Rock salt, because nearly everything supernatural was afraid of rock salt.

Holy water, because anything not afraid of rock salt, was afraid of holy water.

And one last thing. The last thing that Alan had ever given him.

It had been for his birthday. His thirteenth birthday had been okay. His mom hadn't understood him or Alan. She didn't get it at all.

But Alan had.

Alan had saved his money. Allowances, money he had received for good grades, and that sort of thing. And he had known exactly what he wanted to get Dwight for some time.

It was a dove. Wings outstretched, I looked ready to take off into the air.

A symbol of peace. Of hope. Of love.

And, for Dwight, of remembrance.

It was tiny. Less than two inches across. The detail work on it was exquisite.

It was all he had left of his brother.

Sometimes, when he touched and fondled it, it became warm, and felt almost as though his brothers' spirit lived on in that talisman.

But that couldn't be. It was impossible.

Shaking his head to clear it again, he found himself just standing outside of the kitchen.

Odd. He'd made his way down here but couldn't remember seeing anyone on his way.

He pushed open the kitchen door.

And stopped.

There was no one in the kitchen, either.

Looking at the clock on the wall, he discovered it was 7:42 AM.

Not time for class yet, but definitely time for all the boys of Windsor house to be at breakfast.

_Where the hell was everyone?_

Maybe they had all just left early.

Not taking any chances, his hand crept to the silver cross in his pocket, and he whipped it out. Holding it in front of him like a shield, he stepped out of the kitchen, looking around anxiously.

He wandered out of Windsor, peering around him at everything outside. Nowhere did he see a living soul.

Hmmm.

Nor did he see any dead ones, he thought to himself, as he looked around again.

In fact, there was _no one around anywhere._

Walking quickly, he headed in the direction of Hanover.

Looking swiftly in the front doors, he noticed that, like at Windsor, there was no one around.

Instead of checking more thoroughly, Dwight raced to the main house, where classes and Warblers Hall resided.

Dashing in the front doors, he skidded to a halt.

Nothing and no one.

He raced through the rooms, peeking in everywhere, but nowhere did he find evidence of anything living, breathing, or even dying.

Dwight let out a soft sob, and it echoed softly in the deserted hallway.

His eyes grew round, and his breathing increased until he wasn't just panting, he was hyperventilating.

He crashed into the door to Warblers Hall, back first, and slid down it, landing in a heap on the floor.

He forced himself to become calm.

His friends. His teachers. His peers. Everyone was missing.

If anyone could save them, it was him. Because they needed to be saved.

He just had to convince himself of that fact.

* * *

><p>After Dwight had his breathing under control, he raised himself on unsteady legs. Jogging gently, he made his way back to Windsor house, up to his room and straight to his cell phone.<p>

Dialling Aimee's number, he was astounded to hear nothing on his phone but an unceasing dial tone. So the phones weren't working either. He looked out his window, and tried to see if anyone had shown up yet.

Although he was staring for more than five minutes, he saw no sign of anyone at all.

An idea came to him, and he raced out of the room.

He headed to the library, his favourite source for unfamiliar spells, and researching.

As he approached, he heard a soft murmuring sound.

He skidded to a stop right before he entered the doors, looking around for the source of the muffled noise.

However, as it didn't happen again, he had no way to follow it to its source, so he shook his head, and entered the restricted area.

Dwight had been restricted from the library some time ago, after a spell he had been working on blew up in his face.

Literally.

Since then, he had been restricted from the library with extensive, and frequent, scolding. The librarian was not fond of her books going up in flames, and unfortunately in Windsor house, that seemed to happen quite frequently. They were always promptly replaced, but she didn't care about that. Just the idea that a book was to be used in such a fashion was upsetting to her.

But now, she wasn't around.

Dwight headed directly to his favourite section. It held all the books that he would ever need on spiritualism, ghosts, exorcism, spells and how to cast them, holy symbols and religious artefacts, and the best places to find natural growing herbs that would be of use in most spells.

Picking out a book he had used excessively before his banishment, he began to read.

Two hours later, his back aching and his stomach growling, he finally closed the book.

He had a couple more ideas of what had happened, but he couldn't confirm anything as there was no one there to ask.

He was pretty sure he hadn't died in his sleep. If this was his own version of hell or purgatory, it was a pretty piss poor one. The quiet was relaxing, even if it was unnatural.

He was sure he would have felt a cosmic rift open up in the fabric of space and time. Something like that which would have had the ability to suck all the others into an alternate reality would have made a noise, of that he was nearly certain.

And if aliens had landed on Earth, and taken all of his friends away, why would they have just left him there? So that couldn't have been what happened.

He was also positive he wasn't sleeping, as he had pinched himself, and then stuck a needle in his arm, just to prove he was awake. After putting the Band-Aid on his arm, he was glad he didn't have to check _that_ more than once.

With a growling stomach, we wandered into the Windsor kitchen, to see what he could scare up to eat.

Since it was usually someone else's job to cook, he found himself quite unable to decide on what he wanted.

He looked in the fridge, in the cupboards and in the pantry, and nothing really caught his eye. There were plenty of snack foods, like potato chips and chocolate bars. But Dwight didn't feel like having any of that.

So he decided to make himself a pot of Kraft Dinner. Macaroni and Cheese from a box sounded just right to him.

As he set the pot on the stove with some salted water, he heard another soft mumbling sound. It was similar to the last time, only a bit louder.

Dashing out into the hallway, he looked around frantically, hoping the sound would come again so he could follow it back and possibly find his friends.

No such luck.

He returned to the stove, quietly watching the water as it began to boil.

Dumping in the box of macaroni, he stirred three times clockwise, and three times counter clockwise. Never let it be said that Dwight Houston played favourites when stirring!

He finally judged that the macaroni was done, and took it off the stove. That was something he was sure his friends had no idea about: his cooking. He was actually quite good in the kitchen, even though he rarely showed it.

Putting the last touches on his finished bowl of macaroni and cheese, he sat at the centre island, on one of the bar stools, and ate in silence.

After putting his rinsed bowl and pot into the dishwasher, he wandered outside to try to determine if weather or some cosmic disturbance had caused the disappearance of his friends.

Because he was becoming extremely lonely.

* * *

><p>HAN!<p>

Dwight jumped up from under the tree where he had fallen asleep. The Caterpillar had to still be there, right? No one and nothing could get to Han without going through his security clearance, and Dwight raced back inside of Windsor.

As he bolted up the stairs, he could hear a weird shuffling sound from down at the other end of the second floor corridor. But he was far too focussed on getting to Han to try and figure it out at this point.

He reached the door to Han's room, pounding on the door with as much force as he could.

A bit of shuffling could be heard behind the door, but the locks weren't being released. Punching in the code for Han's room, (other than the Tweedles, he was he only one with the code,) he felt more than heard the door sliding open on it's track.

He jumped inside the room, knowing the door would only stay open for five seconds before closing. Han had programmed it this way to keep the cold air inside his room.

Peering around, Dwight looked through the foggy interior. The dry ice was there, the banks of monitors were there, the game consoles and the bed were there, but no sign of Han anywhere.

A sob ripped through his throat again, this time much more forcefully.

As he exited the room, he heard more shuffling down at the far end of the hallway.

He raced toward the sound, his body charging through the doors at the end that headed to the inner stairwell.

There was still nothing.

Since he was unable to do anything about his missing friends, he returned to the library.

After another hour of searching, with no sounds around him to go chasing after, he finally found what he was looking for.

It was a returning spell. It was originally supposed to be a spell to return a lover to you, but with a couple of modifications, he might be able to return his friends to him.

* * *

><p>Dwight bounded outside, located a very tall, very mature, poplar tree, just outside of Stuart House.<p>

He broke a branch off of one of he limbs hanging down, and heard a scuffling sound over his shoulder to the left.

Turning around, he saw nothing, but this came as no surprise to him at all. It had, after all, been happening to him all day.

He quickly stripped the branch of all leaves, and twigs, leaving him with a wand about twelve inches long, and although it wasn't perfectly straight, it would do for what he needed it for.

He raced back into the Windsor house, grabbing a few items from his room that he would need. Candles, salt, holy water, incense, and his sacred goblet were all brought with him, as well as a soft blanket and a packet of sunflower seeds. He was going to get hungry, after all.

His hands full of his treasures, he managed to make it all the way to the Windsor common room without dropping anything.

He placed the blanket on a couch, folded up, to wrap around himself if he started to get cold.

He created an altar, and blessed it, using the candles he had brought. Red, for courage and energy, blue for tranquillity and patience, pink for friendship, and white for protection. He also lay down white candles around him, in the shape of a five-pointed star. As he lit the candles, another shuffling was heard, along with murmuring. It sounded even closer than before, as though it was simply coming from just outside of the common room.

Dwight ignored it, creating a salt circle around him on the common room floor. Luckily, this area had all hardwood flooring, and it wouldn't be any issue to clean up after the spell worked.

And he had to reassure himself that it _would_ work. Because, to think otherwise, would be detrimental to his sanity.

He blessed his circle, casting his practised eye over all of the preparations.

He was now ready to begin. He blessed his wand, dowsing it in holy water and chanting softly over it. He then rubbed the wand with essential oils, making sure the wand absorbed the oils before moving on to the next part.

Dwight felt a bit silly doing this part, but it was part of the spell so he sucked it up, and recited:

"In the name of God, in the name of the Goddess, in the name of all that is Holy and True. For the sake of my friends, for the sake of my loved ones, for the sake of my peers. I beseech thee, I beseech thee, I beseech thee. Bring them back, bring them safe, bring them home. May God's will be done, may the Goddess watch over and keep them, may the Holy take care and love them. As my will requests it, so mote it be."

As he recited the spell, he raised his arms, pointing his wand to every corner of the compass. First east, then south, then west, then north.

As he finished the spell, a small pop came from one of the candles, as though a drop of water had fallen on the lit wick.

He turned his head to look at the candle, and found his eyes growing heavy.

That was quite strange. Spells had never made him sleepy before.

He folded his legs under him, while grabbing the blanket off the couch beside him. Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, he slid to the floor, his eyes unable to stay open any longer. He slumped down, unconscious.

* * *

><p>A handful of boys wandered into the room once Dwight was out. Kurt, Blaine, Reed, and the Tweedles took in the prostrate form of their classmate, peer and friend.<p>

"Are you guys sure that this is how he would have wanted to spend his 18th birthday?" Kurt muttered ominously. It had been quite the trying day for him and Blaine, making sure that no one had been around to run into Dwight.

"Trust us," Ethan grinned, as he went around blowing out the candles on one side of the salt circle.

"He needed to know that he was needed, not just loved," Evan explained, as he went around blowing out the other half of the candles.

"When he wakes up, he'll believe he summoned us back from wherever we had disappeared to," Ethan continued, as he gathered up the candles, incense and Holy Water.

"And he'll feel like he saved us all, even if we had no idea that we were 'gone'." Evan finished, gathering up the salt, sacred goblet and sunflower seeds.

Reed looked down at his friend's peaceful, sleeping face. He frowned, his eyes flicking from Dwight to the Tweedles and back again.

"What did you do to make him fall asleep, though?" He asked quietly, so as to not disturb the slumbering boy.

The twins looked at Reed in consternation.

"We didn't do anything…" Ethan looked frustrated.

"Nope, nothing at all," Evan agreed, and they both stared at Dwight like he was some kind of anomaly.

"Well if you guys didn't make him fall asleep, who did?" Kurt murmured softly, studying Dwights' face as the boy slept on, oblivious to the frustration he was causing around him.

* * *

><p>"Dwight? Hey, Dwight? Wake up, big bro!"<p>

Dwight's mind was fuzzy, like he'd been drinking, but he couldn't remember being drunk, so _what the hell_?

A face swam into his vision as he opened his eyes. It was a familiar face, one he would never ever forget, no matter where he went or what he did.

It was his brothers' face.

Sitting straight up, he groaned. His head was pounding, his mouth felt like cotton, and his ears had set up a vicious clanging inside his head.

He gagged a little, until he got his roiling stomach under control.

He looked at Alan with fear and scepticism in his eyes, his entire body shaking with the force of his terror.

Slipping back, away from his brother, he shook his head, his eyes as big as saucers.

"Am-am I dead?" He asked in a whisper.

"Nope!" Alan just grinned, scooting closer to Dwight over the warm, slippery floor. Dwight scooted back a bit further, until his back reached a wall and he couldn't retreat any further.

"Hey, Dwight… It's me, okay?" Alan looked closely at his big brother, a small frown on his face as he took in the sheer terror in his brothers' eyes.

"You don't have to worry, Dwight! This was the only way I could get to talk to you, without breaking all the rules! You _are_ going to talk to me, aren't you?" Alan certainly sounded like his old self, whining when he didn't get his own way.

Alan reached forward, and put his hand in front of Dwight.

"Check it out, Dwight! We can totally do the whole Casper thing with our hands!" He grinned again, waiting for his brother to get the reference.

Smiling slightly, Dwight raised his hand and passed it through Alan's. He wasn't quite sure what happened, as there was a bit of feeling as he passed through, like pins and needles in his hand for the split second he was in contact with his brother.

"Cool…" Alan breathed, turning his twinkling eyes to Dwight's incredulous smile.

"What happens, Al?" Dwight murmured, his eyes focussed on every single detail he could see of his brothers' face.

Alan shook his head, his cheeks going slightly pink, which was adorable on his seven year old face.

"Can't tell. It's against the rules. But I can say it's pretty amazing here!" Alan grinned again, his eyes lighting up as he told Dwight this tiny bit of information.

"What's it like?" Dwight asked softly, tears beginning to slip down his face. Alan softened his smile, scooting closer to Dwight, so that if he were actually corporeal, their knees would have been touching.

"Kinda like being born, I think. Only backwards." Dwight let out a sharp laugh at that, even though the tears sill slid down his face.

"Quit with the Casper quotes, will ya?" He reached out to ruffle his brothers' hair, pulling back at the last second as he realised he would never get to touch him again.

"Well, see, Casper was actually quite close to the real thing!" Alan whispered softly. A crash of thunder cracked overhead, and Alan ducked his head guiltily.

"Sorry, sorry!" He apologised, looking over his shoulder at someone that Dwight couldn't see.

Alan turned back to Dwight and grinned softly.

"They don't like it when somebody breaks the rules. I get away with it sometimes because I'm only seven and they think I'm 'cute'." Alan grimaced at the word, which was exactly the same way he had when he had been alive.

A tear dripped off of Dwight's nose, landing on the soft material he was seated on.

"Am I… sitting on a _cloud_?" Dwight asked in wonderment.

"Nah, it's just something you perceive as a cloud. With the exception of me, you've pretty much made up this place in your head. Kinda looks like someone's version of heaven, right down to the pearly gates," And Alan let out a chuckle at that, and motioned to the left.

As Dwight looked, there, indeed, stood a set of very large, very pearly, gates.

He snickered, and the image faded out softly.

Dwight focussed, and the images of Dalton Academy blurred into vision. He stood, carefully, hoping his body would move the way it would normally. Alan stood with him, looking around in awe.

"Is this…?" Alan began quietly.

"Dalton," Dwight grinned, seeing the shock and wonder on Alan's face.

The scene faded out abruptly, and re-formed into his room in Windsor.

Alan gasped, and he looked as though his cheeks actually would _hurt_ from grinning so much.

"This is my bedroom," Dwight said softly, sitting down on the quite solid-seeming comforter that rested in its place at home. Alan sat beside him, his tiny body dwarfed by Dwights' nearly grown one.

"I actually know that," Alan whispered, his face falling into a soft scowl. "I come by to visit every so often to check up on you, you know," He turned his face up to his brother, who was looking down at him.

"You're not happy, Dwight." And he said this accusingly.

Dwight blinked, not expecting such vehemence from his younger sibling.

"Of course I'm not happy," Dwight protested. "I miss my little brother," He added quietly, his heart breaking in two.

Alan slipped off the bed and knelt in front of Dwight, his face looking up and a small tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

"You still blame yourself, don't you?" Alan asked, already knowing the answer before Dwight nodded silently.

"Stop," Alan said gently, leaning up so that if he had been corporeal, their noses would have been touching. It had been one of their favourite forms of affection; Eskimo kisses.

"You have to stop searching for me, Dwight," Alan's voice cracked, the emotion too difficult for him to keep inside. "I'm gone. And there are others who desperately need your help. You are the only one who can save them, you know." And even though he couldn't feel his brother, Alan wrapped his arms around Dwight as though giving him a hug.

"I was allowed to come and see you, just once, to let you know that I'm all right. I won't be able to see you again until you pass over, but you _will_ be able to feel me around, if you concentrate really hard." Alan explained.

"I don't want you to leave," Dwight's voice broke on the last word, his tears now flowing openly, unashamedly, streaming down his chin and onto the floor.

"I know," Alan said quietly, and his body began fading out gently.

"But it's time for me to go. You're waking up now, Dwight. Just remember what I said. Oh, and I love you, man!" Alan was nearly gone, his voice all that remained of his beloved brother.

"Just remember, I get to be Sam, Dwight. And you're Dean!"

* * *

><p>Dwight opened his eyes to see all of his friends staring down at him in worry.<p>

"Dude! It's about freakin' time! We were gonna go get the nurse!" David sat at the end of the couch that Dwight was lying on, still wrapped up in his blanket.

"Oh… yeah. I had…" Dwight paused. What the hell do you tell your friends when you've spent the last hour talking to your dead brother?

"I had some unfinished business," Dwight felt more than heard the tiny giggle that surrounded him, as he remembered the line from Casper. And then he smiled. Really smiled.

"Glad to see you guys back! So where did you end up? Alternate dimension?" Dwight rubbed his eyes, looking around at the wide-eyed stares of the Windsors surrounding him.

"What?" He yawned, swung his legs over the side of the couch, and stood up. Stretching his arms above his head, he felt amazing. Better than he had in months; hell, in years!

Throwing a smile around the room at all of the Windsors, including Chaz, who had just walked in followed by a very worried looking Reed and Kurt, he made his way up to his room, and there he stayed. I knew someone would come get him for his birthday party soon enough, and surprisingly, he wasn't upset with the idea. He wasn't worried about ghosts, demons, or anything else today. That could all be put off until tomorrow.

Because today he had met his very own guardian angel.

His little brother.

And just like when they were kids, Dwight couldn't refuse Alan anything. He was determined to be happy.

For him.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed this. The spell? Made up, by me. Please don't try it and decide I'm a quack because it didn't work. Or worse, don't try it and decide I'm a lunatic because it actually did do something! I tried to research Return spells online, and all I got were websites for people who were selling spells. I wasn't about to pay $200 - $300 for a spell I was only going to use in a story. I'm SOOO not that rich, or frivolous. So I made it up, from the wand to the candles and the incense, and even the sunflower seeds! XD <strong>


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